Corsair Brothers

"May I get your seat?" Ambrose touched one of the pirate's shoulders. "Please?"

"No way!" The pirate firmly said. "You expect me to stand for the entire duration of the competition? Hell nah."

Ambrose smiled and then tossed the pirate off the chair before sitting down on it.

"Mine now~"

"The hell?" The pirate stood up angrily and turned to Ambrose with hands clenched into fists. "You bastard!"

"What're you going to do?" Ambrose turned to him with a cold look. "I know I haven't been here for a year, but when did you start to think I had turned soft?"

"That's enough!" A gray-bearded man said. "Ambrose must be feeling landsick. Standing for him must be rough, so be a good friend and offer him a seat!"

"…" The pirate gritted his teeth, then bowed and said, "Please, have my seat."

"Gladly!" Ambrose laughed, crossed his legs, and turned to the pit. "Any good matches today?"